The First Night
by Trunks lil' sis
Summary: Upon their first night together, a very young Martouf is comforted by Lantash, and recognizes his future with the Tok'ra.


Title: The First Night

Rating: PG

Authors Notes: I just wanted to do a simple tribute to my favorite character/s. I simply wondered about Martouf and Lantash's beginning, and used the plot bunny as an excuse for and unreasonable amount of angst and fluff.

Author Warnings: Not Beta'd.

Additional notes: Lantash's words are in italics.

Martouf was trying desperately hard to sleep, clutching a makeshift pillow to his chest. He tried not to move, not to think and to keep his breathing to a minimal, not wanting to upset … _him. _But he was finding it desperately hard not to let his thoughts wander, and he just knew he was causing the other some discomfort. However he just couldn't help it, and in reflection to that he shifted on the bed. He was nervous, and evermore so, admittedly terrified.

He missed his mother. He blinked back tears at her memory and clutched the pillow just a bit tighter. He missed her singing him to bed at night, and repairing the clothing he always seemed to rip. He even missed her scolding him for getting dirty when she had specifically asked him not to. He just wanted to hear her sweet yet firm voice just once more, just to make sure she was indeed his mother and not a vivid figment of his imagination.

A shadow passed across his door and he snapped his eyes shut right away, relaxing his body completely, evening his breathing and giving the illusion of sleep. Someone paused in the open doorway as far as he could tell, lingered a moment and then was gone, leaving him almost alone, again.

What he wouldn't give to be swept up into his father's strong arms and protected from the Goa'uld and any other nasty thing out there that wanted to use him for a host or … well, he amended, and involuntary host. Not only would his father protect him, but his siblings would as well, as they always had before. His older brothers had always taken care to shield him before, and he knew if they were still alive they'd continue to do the very same thing.

Did the bed have to be so hard? He supposed the Tok'ra didn't rate sleep as a number one concern, but he didn't feel like his back could take the abuse for very long. His bed at home had been soft, and he remembered melting into it after a hard day's work, being tucked in by his mother and father, and receiving a kiss from each of them.

He managed to catch most of the tears with a quick hand, but a very few leaked down his temple and in response he rolled to one side.

_It will get better. A voice strangely like his own echoed in his head. Martouf immediately recognized the tone as belonging to Lantash, not himself. Lantash was … Lantash was part of him now. _

"I know," He whispered aloud, preferring to vocally talk. "It just hurts."

_You are very young, Martouf. You will have many years for the pain to fade._

"I'm sorry." He said, after many moments of silence.

_For what?_

"For keeping you awake."

Martouf could almost hear Lantash chuckle.

_Do not fret. You are in a new environment, insomnia is to be expected. Your thoughts do not bother me. _

He wasn't sure if he was supposed to feel comforted by those words or not. "Do you remember your mother, Lantash?"

_I do not have a mother. _

Stupid question, Martouf realized. The Tok'ra came from a Queen, and were not born separately to mothers. Lantash had willing shared his knowledge of the Tok'ra with him and yet Martouf felt he hadn't been paying attention at all. He made a strong vow to take in everything Lantash offered and without complaint. Lantash was wise, if not a bit scary.

"I'm scared." He didn't know if he was speaking to himself, Lantash or no one in particular. "I'm scared of death, scared of this place, and the Goa'uld and everything. Is it alright to be scared?"

_Yes. I would worry if you were not._

"Are you ever scared?"

A long pause filled his mind and Martouf wondered if he had made Lantash mad. He still remembered seeing Lantash in the body of another, eyes glowing with anger. That first glimpse had him running in the opposite direction of Lantash and his current host, and unfortunately right off the edge of a rather steep hill.

_I have been scared many times in my life, but none so much as the night you and I met to blend._

Martouf himself remembered very little of the night, relying on Lantash's account of the meeting. While Martouf remembered the terrible storm that had been creeping up on his village, his memories faltered after tumbling down the steep hill. Memories of gasping for breath remained, and then blackness. His father always told him not to run, and his mother begged him. He often had troubles breathing and running increased his inability to do so. Lantash's memories were far more personal, including the death of his current host.

_Kaur had been dying for many weeks, and I could not heal him. Lantash confessed. We had been together for many cycles, and I saw him in you. I confess my eagerness to blend with you stemmed from your resemblance to him. I was very much scared you would not agree and die._

"I was scared of you, the first time I saw you. Your eyes glowed, and I had only seen that once before. I was scared you would hurt me or my family. I'm sorry I ran."

_In retrospect, that might not have been extremely diplomatic. _

"My father," Martouf choked, "He trusted you, and trusted the Tok'ra. He saw past your angry eyes. He saw the good soul you have, Lantash. He knew we were meant to blend. He allowed it only because of your good soul, and not because of my impending death."

_Your father, and indeed your whole village were very courageous. _

"They died." He sobbed into his pillow. "They died to protect you, and to protect me during our blending from the Jaffa and the storm. They gave their lives for ours."

Sobs ripped through him and he was very worried another Tok'ra would appear in the doorway again. He didn't want to talk with anyone except Lantash, and even now he was growing desperate for a few solitary thoughts. He knew he'd never be alone again, but still part of him longed for it.

Flashes of his brothers attacking the Jaffa to give him and Lantash time to escape pounded into his mind. He remembered hearing them shout for him to run, shouting for Lantash to keep him safe. Then his father was at his side, pushing him along when he felt he couldn't run any longer and Lantash was still tired from healing him. Then his father was killed, along with the rest of his village and he and Lantash just managed to escape with a Tok'ra whom had been searching for Lantash for many cycles.

Something in the form of comfort pulsed from Lantash and Martouf found himself suddenly very comforted. It was an odd sensation he had never quite felt before, and it relaxed him into serenity.

_I will protect you, young Martouf. I will protect you now._

"Promise?" He asked, growing drowsy and eyes slipping shut.

_Yes, I promise. _

Martouf believed him with every inch of his soul, and knew in that very moment his blending with Lantash was meant to be.


End file.
